Genesis Rising
by Evil Is A Relative Term
Summary: The Deepground incident has ended and our heroes are gratefully falling back into their normal routines. However, one patrol later Yuffie and Shelke are missing and a new series of events begins.
1. Nightmare Symphony

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Final Fantasy VII.

Chapter One

Nightmare Symphony

Despite their obvious differences, Reeve, from his lofty position as commissioner of the WRO, often sent Yuffie and Shelke on patrol together. If he ever wondered why the reports returned were of a lesser quality and lacked much of the detail they contained when he sent Yuffie alone he never spoke a word. Perhaps he thought that their own good qualities would shore up the failures of personality in the other, but it was not to be so. Thus far this evening their patrol of Edge had been somewhat less than exciting, and even that was an overstatement. Rain turned the area into a dull grey panorama, devoid of even the usual evening shoppers and passerby that could be used to distract and entertain the commissioner's favorite ninja.

Yuffie Kisaragi was not adverse to rain. If asked, she might even go so far as to say that she enjoyed it. However, it had turned to a nuisance with Shelke's absolute indifference and lack of any other stimuli. If she hadn't been so well trained, Yuffie might have sighed. But Yuffie had been trained from birth in the art of the ninja, so an altogether different route was taken advantage of. Spinning on one heel she laughed giddily, watching the rain sling itself from her skin and clothes in glistening arcs. Yuffie threw out her arms to maintain her momentum and balance, nearly taking out Shelke in the process.

Shelke's cold blue eyes quickly drew any meager pleasure she might have received from the activity. This time Yuffie did sigh, but on the tail end of it she caught a hint a sound, something another would have taken for more raindrops pouring into the alley. She turned, noting that Shelke had already drawn her plasma sabers, but was looking at the opposite end of the alley. That was the last moment she had for rational thought. Soldiers in an unfamiliar charcoal grey body armor poured in and it was all she could do to stay alive. It was a short alley, imperfect for the usual sort of ambush because of the number of escape routes, but it seemed like the soldiers were swarming from nowhere, blocking all the exits. They even lined the buildings, like some horrible contemporary gargoyles, cutting off the sky and the ninja's last chances to escape.

At this range it was nearly impossible for them to miss. They would pay a heavy toll, but their sheer numbers would win for them. Yuffie felt blazes of pain, like white-hot irons run through her where the bullets were eating away at her flesh. She pushed aside the pain and the encroaching darkness, leaving it all for a dull red haze that was without thought, only rage. She never even noticed when Shelke fell.

The commander of this contingent was perched safely at the top of a nearby building. His uniform differed from his fellows only in a narrow vertical stripe of crimson down his right side. Otherwise his charcoal grey combat armor and mirrorized helm where the same as any of his men. He watched as the target stumbled directly into their little trap. The informant who had provided the route would be rewarded in the same way they rewarded all those from the WRO who proved themselves willing and able to provide sensitive information. He or she would be done away with as soon as was feasible. There was no place in the company for traitors.

There was a measure of controlled satisfaction in his demeanor as their primary objective was soon reached. The smaller of the two figures fell with only a moderate loss of life for his men and minimal damage done to herself. However, all was not well on the other end. His mood darkened as he looked to where the other figure still resisted. Such resistance had not been anticipated. Their informants, for they had been sure to verify their information through diverse sources, had obviously been misinformed themselves. The ninja had been described in their reports as young and clumsy, but he could not see the evidence of that. In fact, he felt a stirring of connection, one warrior to another, as he watched her cut through his men as easily as a reaper brings down wheat.

She was bleeding from what had to be a dozen different wounds. Her shuriken had shattered, the majority of it still stuck deep in the wall where it pinned one of his lieutenants. Only one spike still remained in her hand and she used it like a short sword, no longer graceful. The numbers and her blood loss were telling, as she drifted to less clean, more brutal methods of dealing with her foes. She was no longer attempting to escape, seemingly content with causing as much mayhem and destruction as was possible.

Then she was slung backwards from a shot from one of the heavy lasers. With painful slowness she raised herself to her knees. He saw her hand go to the great, gaping hole in her chest, watched eagerly as she brought it to her face. Understanding dawned in her eyes, and for an impossibly drawn out second she met his gaze across the gap that separated them. He watched without comprehension as a dark satisfaction bloomed in her already dimming gaze, lighting up the torn shell that was already betraying her iron control.

Then he felt the catch in his chest, the barrier that would not let him draw air. In a numb haze he looked down and saw the long steel length that had grown from his chest without him ever noticing her hand moving. With dimming eyes he took note of every chip, every groove in the foot and a half length, the battered and useless materia that dimmed, just as he did. And then the blackness was complete and he saw no more.

Booted feet weaved their way effortlessly through the tangle of corpses. Their owner looked on the spread with only contempt as his gaze looked over the vista of death. A cool breeze, still heavy with rain swept over them, rustling black hair and black feathers. His gaze caught on a particular body, one he could almost recognize. His feet soon brought him to the side of the young female in unsuitable clothing for both the weather and the battle that had brought her to her present state. There were enough bullets in her he almost couldn't recognize her. If he held her up to the sun, there was not enough left of her torso, the largest target on a human being and the one most easily hit, to provide even a decent sun shade. He could see the shattered remains of what might once have been a bone in her left leg. A minor vein had been punched through in her neck, still oozing it's contribution to the puddle of blood in which she lay.

It was this last detail that interested him, as much as he could be interested. Corpses didn't bleed. This girl was very close to becoming one. He doubted they could save her even if she was rushed to a clinic this instant. Though it seemed that gunshots were the only injury she had sustained, there wasn't much left of her to save. They would have to amputate and replace most of her limbs and vital organs. Only her head seemed to have escaped the trauma of the rest of her body.

He knew who she was, of course. She had been one of the group that had destroyed his brothers. Truthfully, he couldn't harbor any ill will against her for that. He held his own sanity in only a tenuous grasp, and most of the others had gone almost beyond reach. He spared another glance for the body resting on the concrete beneath his feet. She could be useful. Doubtless she would be better able to track her companions with greater ease than he could. And they in turn would lead him to his ultimate goal.

Without wasting any more of his already severely limited time he gathered the girl in his arms, ignoring the coppery scent of her blood, which seemed to be getting everywhere. He flexed and unfurled his great, dark wing and launched himself into the air. His unnatural powers brought them supernaturally quick to a dark wooded area, where there was a small clearing. The area was a circle too perfect for nature, the grass too green, the untransversable growth around it too thick. His reason for bringing her here ignored his landing on the grass and the few dark blotches that stained their too perfect green stems. A mako fountain, a natural and unspoiled one filled the clearings center, a quietly beating heart that ebbed and rose with a substance that held the power of the Lifestream itself.

He experienced a moment's doubt before he laid her in the quiet, shallow depths. He had never heard of this being attempted before, especially on someone with no prior mako exposure. All of Shinra's experiments had been with either refined or diluted mako. But the moment passed as quickly as it came. The ninja was placed as gently in the fountain as he could manage and still leave himself untouched by the mako. Her body drifted gently to the bottom, settling against half formed materia orbs. Without a second glance he took off again, his mind already returning to his hunt.

_Three days later..._

He landed gently, with less haste this time, and his boots barely left imprints in the unnaturally thick grass. The girl lay where he left her, but she was changed by her exposure. His eye noticed the changes without particularly caring about any of them. All her wounds had healed, without even a trace of a scar. Her limbs seemed longer, more graceful, but his instincts whispered more lethal. The short, tangled mess that had been her hair now pooled around her like a thousand silky black snakes, coming to rest at her waist. He didn't even have to look to know that her eyes would have taken on the unnerving glow of prolonged mako exposure.

He pulled her body from its grave, ignoring the tingling sensation that resulting from the mako that soaked her form. Her long hair traced mako trails as it slithered over his gauntlets, coming to rest in a loose, graceful flow. She was lighter than the last time he had carried her thus, but without the frailty. And she was as cold as a corpse would be, except he could feel her breaths, even as shallow and slow as they were. Something still in the pool caught his eye. It was a katana, glowing dully black in a black leather sheath. It too was gathered and then he left the almost stifling life of the grove. He took them with less haste to a warehouse deep within Edge itself, and settled down with infinite patience to wait for her to wake and throw off the fever haze. He had time.

_Seven days later..._

Yuffie awoke slowly, with foreign sensations pressing themselves against her senses. It was warm in the room, though some sense insisted that it shouldn't be. She was stretched out on a mattress which could only be called vaguely comfortable, but the worn blankets tucked around her were comforting, because they meant someone had cared enough to make an effort. Her clothes were gone, but as far as she could tell nothing had been done to herself. She tried to remember how she had come here, but it was all fever and blood and something infinitely peaceful, just out of reach.

"So you are awake at last." A deep voice said and she forced herself not to gasp in surprise. She peered into the doorway and a figure resolved itself. This time it was a whimper she suppressed. She had never seen this one, but they all had that same indefinable air. He resembled Nero, but only superficially. Physically he was more similar to Vice himself.

"You may call me Genesis. Your reports will have referred to me as simply 'G'. I assure you I mean you no harm. If you look after I leave you will find a bathroom, where you will find clothes and underthings. Yours could not be saved. I will be waiting in the next room when you are dressed." With that he turned and closed the door after him.

Drawing the blankets around her she made her way over to the room he had indicated. A shower stood in one corner, with a toilet and a few shelves which held towels and what she assumed were clothes. She let the blankets drop gratefully and yelped when something brushed against her skin. Looking down she saw a long, tangled mass of what could only be her own hair. Like ink it ran down to her waist, and as her disbelieving hand ran along some strands she felt the same liquid silkiness. To her amazement her efforts also seemed to untangle the strands with no tugging or frustration. It was as if her hair could not be forced into the snarled knots she had dreaded attacking. Simply running her fingers through it allowed it to fall in a silken waterfall.

But the first stroke of her hair in a state approaching panic brought pain, like it was a thousand tiny blades. Her blood oozed only slowly from the mangled fingers, and even as she watched her wounds began to close as if they had never existed and the too dark blood was only a figment of her imagination. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself once again she gently touched the strands, but again there was only the slickness of before. A defense mechanism of some sort? But it was only hair, wasn't it?

Yuffie looked for a mirror, but there were none in the bathroom. It occurred to her that this was all very odd, because she knew something was wrong and this unnatural hair was probably the least of it. The tiny hairs on her arms would have raised in alarm, except she didn't seem to have any body hair. A quick check assured her that her eyebrows were intact, but otherwise she seemed rather bare and pale. By this point her hand trembled as she raised it to her eyes. It was almost as if something had bleached her skin to almost translucency. A morbid part of herself whispered of blood and death and for a moment she contemplated the fact that she might be dead. Then her common sense reasserted herself and she reasoned that this bath, bare as it was, was too clean and neat to be hell, and if this was heaven she felt she was owed a refund.

Nervously she showered, scrubbing the scent of blood and sweat from her skin, and made her way over to the shelf. Under things, complete with still attached tags, and in a sleek but functional black sat there, as well as a small stack of different clothes. She recognized the style of the clothes. It was similar to what Kadaj's gang had worn. In fact, she was rather sure that the clothes she donned had belonged to the slim gunner of the group. Azul? No, that was later. She was sure his name would come to her. While she pondered she pulled on the fitted leather, surprised by the flexibility that it afforded. A thin shirt of some stretchy material was made to be worn under the trench coat. As she was pulling on the shirt his name came to her. Yazoo. The trench coat came next, and it was with surprise that she noted again that though it brushed against the worn tile of the floor it did not seem to inhibit her flexibility at all. A different style than the one Yazoo had worn when he died, for that one had only come to his knees. The boots fit well and came to rest just below her kneecap. Everything had fit suspiciously well, but she didn't think to question it as she finger combed her hair, which obliged her by untangling itself almost without help.

After she had dressed, she felt much better, no matter what sort of pale skinned, long haired freak she had become. She hadn't discovered horns or a tail yet, so she supposed it must not be too bad. Though the impossibly silky hair was rather creepy. Following Genesis's directions Yuffie met him in what looked like the observation deck of a run-down warehouse.

He didn't even turn to look at her as he stood at the railing. "You have been missing for ten days. I assume you know your friend was taken. I gather your compatriots believe you were taken as well. The will make an attempt on a laboratory tonight. It does not contain the girl. What it does contain are several elite units that will do their best to destroy your companions. That cannot be allowed."

"What can we do?" Yuffie asked worriedly, although her instincts questioned why this man would care whether her companions were destroyed.

He turned unnerving blue eyes to her. In this dim light their mako glow was enhanced beyond reason, making them even more disturbing. "We have a few hours. Come." Yuffie followed after him as he took her to the ground floor and into a room that looked like it had once held some sort of assembly line, but was now used as a practice area, filled with hundreds of targets that filled the air like a swarm of strange paper insects and sat on every available surface. Genesis waited quietly for a few seconds while she took in the plethora of targets, but then movement attracted her eye back to her guide. His hand indicated a wooden box on an old metal shelf, next to which boxes of ammunition were stacked. "Open it."

Yuffie cast him a worried glance, but it was impossible to tell if he even felt emotion, let alone what he was up to. She reached her hand out hesitantly, but was struck by the unnatural shape of the fingernails on her hand. Almost like...talons. With a quick mental shake of her head she touched the cool metal of the lock. The lock holding the box opened with a soft click, but the box itself opened on silent hinges. On a bed of red velvet lay a gun, one with which she had been made familiar through reports. "Its name is Velvet Nightmare. I hope that your training included firearms. It is now yours. Its former owner no longer possesses a need for it." Yuffie couldn't tell if the last was meant to be sarcastic or not. Trembling fingers drew the gun from its rest, but the hands that loaded it were sure. It had been years since she had last practiced with a gun, but somehow the grip felt right, better even than when she had first held a gun. So it was with assurance that she leveled its barrel at her target, aimed only for less than a second, and fired. A hole lay where the center of her target had once been.

"A side effect of mako enhancement is that the axons in your brain are modified, allowing the electrical impulses that coordinate the reception of sensory imput and reaction to travel at nearly ten times the normal rate. In other words, perfectly suited for firearms. I don't know if you will eventually adopt them as your primary weapons, but we will need their range today and as your shuriken was shattered, you will have to content yourself with Velvet Nightmare until you can acquire a new one." Genesis's voice was level, but Yuffie was staring at the weapon grasped lightly in her hand in disbelief. Gathering her courage, she moved on to the next target.

Genesis was ruthless, but she hadn't realized how far theses strange new changes had gone. It was almost as if the targets drew the bullets to their centers and she spent less and less time on the mechanics of it, until she _was _the gun, until at last Genesis stopped urging her. Yuffie let the gun fall to her side and drew a clammy hand against her forehead, which remained cool despite the exertion. She let her gaze wonder to her targets and her mouth almost fell open. As it was, she was too shocked to move. Every target in the room, hundreds of them, all had a hole, dead center in each target. Her widened eyes caught Genesis's but he did not react in any way she could interpret.

"You'll do. I have your ammunition belts and suchlike. And something else." From the shelf behind him he pulled a katana that seemed to pull at the light. It was in a half sheath made to go across the back, the only realistic way to wear a katana of that length, and its blade was dead black. Yuffie took it with shaking hands after laying down Velvet Nightmare and buckled it on. Her hair, still loose, almost caught on the strap, but miraculously flowed over the leather. She was beginning to have her suspicions that her initial worries of it catching on things or being caught by things would prove groundless. After the katana, Velvet Nightmare and

all of its accessories were adjusted on her waist.

Genesis had watched unemotionally as she had donned the weapons and only now did he shift his weight. Without a word he motioned for her to follow until they reached a door she was sure led outside. He gestured that she was to go first and she stepped into the bright light on the street and had to blink furiously to see anything. But even if her eyes had adjusted to the sudden influx of light more quickly it wouldn't have mattered, for in the fraction of a second it took her eyes to deal with the light Genesis's arms had scooped her up bridal style, and they held her like steel bands as his single wing unfurled and took them heavenward.

She had been in the air above Edge enough times to recognize it and Midgar was as blatantly obvious as ever when they reached its ruins, even though this time she didn't feel the usual nausea that accompanied her every movement experience in a vehicle. The rushing wind was pleasant, and felt warm despite their height. It didn't take them long to reach the tall building that appeared to be their destination. Genesis dropped her to the roof and landed gently beside her. He pointed out an unremarkable alley across the street from their building. Despite herself, Yuffie shivered, filled with welling memories of blood and chaos. She bit down on her tongue to stifle a whimper, but whimpered anyway when teeth that were much sharper than they had a right to be pierced her tongue.

Genesis's gaze was drawn by the noise. "Something wrong?" he inquired.

Yuffie shook her head nervously. "Just bit my tongue." And worse, she could feel the vaguely metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She had bitten down hard admittedly, but surely not that hard.

"With fangs like yours I would imagine it to be rather painful." he said offhandly, returning his gaze to across the street.

"Fangs?" Yuffie couldn't stifle her exclamation.

Genesis's gaze and tone were faintly mocking. "Surely you had noticed?"

Yuffie ran her abused tongue over her teeth. It was worse than she had thought. Even Vincent didn't have fangs, or at least she didn't think so. It wasn't as if they were even particularly noticeable, despite what Genesis had said. Just a bit more pronounced than your average human's eyeteeth. Not even fangs at all really, which meant Genesis had been mocking her sudden panic.

"Now that you've had your hysterical fit, you will observe that alley across the street conceals the entrance to the laboratory your party believes conceals you and Shelke. Something similar to what happened when you were ambushed will happen here. We will prevent your friends from being killed and I will collect the commander, who will hopefully survive." Genesis explained as they crouched in the fading light of afternoon.

The ninja drew Velvet Nightmare and gave him a predatory smile in return, baring the slight fangs he had mocked her about, before settling herself to wait for their prey to reveal themselves. Genesis allowed himself a secret smile as he watched the silver gleam of her eyes brighten in anticipation of the battle ahead. She had turned out better than he had anticipated. He found himself looking forward to the battle ahead. It was looking to amuse.


	2. Avalanche, In Reflection

Disclaimer: Oh, the things I would do if I owned FFVII…

A/N: On with the story!

Chapter Two

Avalanche, In Reflection

Out of nervous anticipation and habit, more than actual concern Cloud checked the edge of his blade. Again. And it was still as sharp as it had been when he had checked it five seconds ago. A sigh escaped the former mercenary, but he didn't feel too bad about his nerves, as the entirety of Avalanche was in a similar state. Cid was leaning against a wall not ten feet from him, chain-smoking his second pack of cigarettes within the hour and muttering an unending stream of obscenities while his spear tapped out an ungainly accompaniment against his battered leather boots. Barret was slowly turning the battered half wall on which he sat into dust, crumbling the bits of rubble with his gun arm, all the while muttering something similar to Cid's monologue, but more in the nature of what he was going to do to Yuffie once they got her back for allowing herself to be captured.

Reeve was too important to risk coming himself on this sort of mission, especially as his real talents in battle could be exercised just as well from inside the stuffed body of Cait Sith. Even from his office Reeve was showing himself to be nervous, spitting out fortunes like a politician's promises. Red XIII was lying down, but anyone who knew him well could pick out his unease in the brightness of his tail and how it twitched like he was being attacked by fleas. Tifa was still and silent, but she was staring unnervingly at his face like the answers to the universe were written on it in fine print. Vincent was the only one he couldn't read, but he was doing what Vincent did best, which was to be silent and stoic and generally unreadable.

It had been ten days since that terrible rainy evening, which had occurred only six months after the DeepGround incident. Cloud had been in Edge that day, just back from a long run up to Icicle Inn to deliver a package, having a meal at Tifa's bar when the call had come through that gunshots had been heard and bodies found. It hadn't worried him much at that point. It hadn't been until several minutes later when a second call had come, that it was in Yuffie and Shelke's sector for the evening, nobody could contact them and they hadn't reported in for hours. Tifa had closed down and locked up the bar and Denzel and Marlene were left with a neighbor all within half an hour. It had taken only another thirty minutes, minutes that had seemed to stretch out for weeks until they had stood at the scene. Reeve and his people from the WRO had already established a perimeter and the streets nearest were clear, but it wasn't until they had gotten closer they had finally seen the carnage.

He hadn't wanted to believe them taken. But when he had seen the shattered remains of Conformer, he had known. Yuffie would have never left it willingly, especially with all the materia still left in the slots. Another body had been found while they had been examining the area where they were sure Yuffie had fallen, a large clearing on the forest of bodies that resembled a lake of blood. The body of what the initial reports was presuming to be the commander had been found on the roof of a building fairly far away from the site of the battle. But they could not deny that it was a blade from Conformer, thrown with impossible strength for a girl that had surely been gravely injured and with a weapon and distance not suited for one another, pierced him through like a fly on a collection card.

Their people were still in the lab running simulations, but it was still fairly obvious what had happened. Shelke must have fallen early, because the number of those with wounds from her characteristic plasma sabers was small and there was no clearing where she would have fallen. The death of the commander was still troubling the technicians because their angles and calculations had declared Yuffie's last message an impossible feat. Elmyra had been called and subsequently moved into Seventh Heaven to watch the bar and the children. Cid had flown in from Rocket Town the moment he received the call, he and Shera arriving early the next morning. He had left again almost immediately to pick up Red XIII from his home in Cosmo Canyon. Barrett had arrived two days after the incident, the soonest he could leave the oil fields in Corel, full of bluster and worry over the two young women. Vincent had arrived as soon as they managed to reach him on his cell phone. He had been staying in Edge anyway, but he had only heard of the incident on the news, from which most of the details had been kept.

It had taken them an excruciatingly long time to pick up a trail, but they had and it led here to this dim alley across from another dim alley that hopefully led to the unknown building beyond where their friends were being kept. Besides the obvious thoughts that accompanied their worry, there was the additional factor of Shelke's dependence on mako. She had been scheduled for a treatment that morning after the time they were due in from patrol. Ten days of mako withdrawal would make her very, very weak. He could only hope that her captors provided her with mako, otherwise it might well be a body they found, however much none of them would mention it.

He scanned his surroundings warily, a habit still very much intact from their days as Avalanche, but it was quiet here among the ruins of Midgar except for the noise that his companions made. Almost too quiet for his current state of mind. Cloud's mako enhanced eyes scanned the rooftops warily for any sign of a threat, but the ruins jagged silhouettes made them ideal hiding places for the enemy. They would advance as soon as their scouts gave them the all-clear, but the signal hadn't been given, so their small party stood or crouched among the rubble.

Suddenly he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Never taking his eyes from his surroundings, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Cloud, you have to get out of there. It's an ambush. They're closing in on your position." A voice barked at him.

The voice itself sounded familiar, but he couldn't immediately place it. "Who is this?," he asked suspiciously.

"Move it Chocobo Butt!" The voice on the other end ordered.

It came to him who it was and the discovery hit him like a small building falling on him. "Yuffie?" he inquired incredulously.

"Cloud, if you don't want to end up getting your butt handed to you, get out of their now!" A burst of gunfire sounded from the phone and the connection terminated, but he could still hear the gunfire, closer than he was comfortable with.

The others were looking to him for orders, and he gave them. "All right," he ordered tersely, "all WRO squads get out of here and back to headquarters. It's an ambush, but we still have time if we leave now." That inspired a controlled storm of movement, with officers hurriedly reloading companies and supplies back into the trucks. His companions stayed put, eyeing him with uncertainty.

"Cloud, are we leaving?" Tifa asked.

"No. That was Yuffie on the phone." This caused a flurry of questions and exclamations, but he held out a hand to silence them. "Wherever that gunfire is, that's where she is and we're going to go get her. Let's mosey people." The familiar, if lame, command spurred them into action, with Red XIII and his superior hearing leading them directly to the building where the gunfire was coming from. As the approached a soldier clad in the familiar grey body armor was flung from a third story window. The body landed at their feet and they all noted distractedly that it was a gunshot wound directly between the eyes that had killed him. By the time they had reached the entrance and made their way past all the bodies that littered the stairs like a gruesome slug trail the shots had fallen silent again.

Cautiously they all made their way onto the landing and looked beyond the ruined double doors of industrial steel. A large empty room met their gaze, with the windows filled with bullet holes and one, where the soldier had fallen through, missing entirely. Only one figure still stood, dramatically backlit by the dusty sunlight streaming in from the windows. As they watched, the slim figure in the trench coat calmly reloaded its gun, the falling shells as loud as gunshots themselves in the heavy silence.

They made their way very silently into the room, but as soon as it heard bootsteps, the figure whirled, gun raised into position, trench coat and long hair billowing dramatically. Cloud and companions also dropped into a defensive position automatically, but then he met the cold silver eyes that practically screamed of mako from their crazy glow. But he recognized something familiar in that gaze and the recognition was returned. "Cloud?" the figure asked, dropping the gun slowly.

"Yuffie?" Cloud returned uncertainly. The voice was right, but everything else was wrong. "Is that...is that you?"

"That's...there's no way that's the ninja brat!" Barrett spluttered. Cloud almost agreed. The lithe figure had all the controlled grace of a panther, none of the childish vitality of their friend. And Yuffie had always been shorter than this, and the long strands that ran like spilled ink to the figure's waist were out of place. The deathly pale skin of the gunner would have earned mockery from the Yuffie he knew, and the unreadable silver eyes would have inspired a long monologue about their creepy qualities. The leather trenchcoat that left nearly every inch of skin covered was a sharp contrast to the shorts and shirt that made up Yuffie's wardrobe. And those were only a few of the pieces that didn't fit in the puzzle he was trying to build of his friend. But there was also an indefinable air of Yuffieness here, something that told him that while his eyes might not recognize this as Yuffie, the person inside that form was indeed his friend.

Tifa reached this conclusion before him, launching herself through the air to wrap Yuffie in a tight embrace. The Yuffie creature returned the hug with equal enthusiasm. Tifa's relieved laugh rang loud in the still stunned silence. "Yuffie, we were so worried!" Tifa released her and took a few steps back. "What happened to you?"

"Not here. The questions will wait until we return to the WRO headquarters." Vincent's voice and opinion were accepted without question, all of them realizing that they were still in hostile territory. They made it back to the truck without a problem, but as soon as they were all in and the doors shut, the questions began.

"Yuffie, what happened?" Tifa asked again, this time more insistently. Yuffie's eyes, which had been staring at the floor of the truck, met Tifa's and Cloud noticed that Tifa was unable to repress a shiver.

It didn't escape Yuffie's notice either and she asked hesitantly, "Tifa? Is something wrong? With my eyes, I mean. I know there are other things wrong, so why not my eyes too?" Yuffie clenched her hands, her voice shaking even though she swiftly regained control.

Tifa attempted to laugh it off awkwardly and Yuffie allowed her to. Yuffie sighed. "I don't remember much. I know that Shelke and I were ambushed, but a lot of that is just red haze, then darkness. After that there's something I can't remember, just on the edge of my mind, then a lot of hazy dreams. I woke up today at a warehouse in Edge like this," Yuffie shrugged uncomfortably but continued, "and I don't even know what I look like. Genesis was there when I woke up and he told me I'd been missing for ten days. He didn't say where he found me or why he took me to the warehouse, but he gave me weapons and took me to the top of that building you found me in and told me it was an attempt to ambush you. He left right after that." she finished.

There was silence for a while, then Vincent asked, "Genesis? He's the one our reports refer to as 'G', correct? The missing Deepground agent." Yuffie nodded confirmation and Vincent asked, seemingly to himself, "I wonder how and why you came to wake up with him? What could his motivation have been?"

Tifa gave Yuffie a smile that was only a trifle overly bright. "Whatever the reason, we're glad to have you back and home safe Yuffie. Now we only have to find Shelke, who I'm more worried about." Cloud flinched internally at how harsh that statement had sounded, but the others were nodding in agreement. A quick look of pain crossed Yuffie's face, but it was gone so quickly Cloud thought he had imagined it.

Silence descended soon afterword, no one knowing quite what to say. The man who was Vincent Valentine was not uncomfortable with the silence. It had been his native element for years, even before his long sleep and losing Lucrecia. He could tell Tifa found it uncomfortable, knowing as she did that the silence had been caused by her comment. His eyes, the color of velvet and blood, traveled over to the one whose habit it was to break uncomfortable silences like these. He liked to entertain the thought occasionally that he knew Yuffie Kisaragi better than even Tifa. When they had been on their grand adventure to save the world, when they had split their party the two of them were often paired. But every time he thought he had the measure of her, Yuffie would surprise him.

He had never managed to connect the two images he had of the persona that was Yuffie. One was all bright color, loud chatter, and childish clumsiness. The second was the Yuffie he had never seen, but that he knew had to be there. That was the Yuffie that had rescued him after he had been overcome by the first Tsviet he had faced, the one that had infiltrated Deepground on her own. His eyes searched the person his friend had become, looking for remnants of the person who he had last seen only a few weeks ago.

Yuffie apparently felt his eyes on her and she raised her eyes to meet his. Her grey eyes were familiar to him, but it was as if a stranger looked back, with eyes like frozen mercury glowing coolly in the light in the back of the truck. She tried for a semblance of her own self, giving him a small smile, but he couldn't help but notice the slight fangs that smile exposed. Her smile faltered when she noticed his focus and she hung her head. The long hair, so unfamiliar, ran like a thousand inky rivers against corpse pale flesh to form a midnight waterfall between them. But the tension was still there, clear in the way she held herself still and her fists were clenched so tightly, the talon-like nails still obvious. Everything about this new Yuffie was at once as familiar as any companion of the heart and as new and dangerous as the gun she was wearing or the katana that lay across her lap, as she had taken it off as soon as they had gotten in the truck.

The silence persisted as they walked into the WRO headquarters. Yuffie flinched at the stares she gained, but instead of doing something ridiculous to diffuse the tension, a proud, erect stranger looked back at the world with icy coolness. They had gathered at the sliding doors and there was a small crowd to receive a comrade back. Breaking from the tense knot that Avalanche had formed, Yuffie strode forward and the crowds parted as if moved by a divine hand. It was then he noticed a certain similarity to Sephiroth, which was a strange comparison, but it was there in the billowing hair, the black trench coat, the spine as straight and proud as if steel had been run through it, the long katana clenched in one hand. And there was a something about the eyes as well, something strange and unknowable.

Yuffie ignored the stares, though they felt like fire on her flesh. She wondered silently to herself what sort of monster she had become, that these people, people who she had worked with, people she had fought with, should flinch away like she was Sephiroth reawoken. It was easier not to look at them than to see them look away like they wouldn't meet her eyes for fear that something else other than Yuffie was staring at them from behind her eyes.

And she heard the murmurs of the crowd, too, like a hornet's nest that had been prodded, things that were just dumb and others that cut close enough to hurt. It was enough that her left hand, the one she held the strange katana in, curled around the hilt so tightly she could feel her nails cutting into her flesh. But the physical pain was preferable. Suddenly she felt she thought she knew what Vincent must feel like every time someone looked at him and judged him by his cape and claw. A dark anger stirred deep in her breast, but it was buried quickly and with horror, but she heard a sound like dark laughter from just behind her.

It wasn't until they had made it all the way across the lobby that she finally saw herself, in the full length mirrors located on each side of the reception desk. Terror bloomed in her heart and horror, because she knew that never again would she be able to be the person she was. The attack had destroyed whatever had left her that semblance of innocence and childhood that had defined the person she was. Perhaps some of it could be recaptured, but there was no softness in this new reflection. It was all strength and raw power, nails and teeth, fang and claw. She turned her head away from the figure of ink and bone and made her way into the elevator, where the stares could not follow her, at least for a time.

She escaped down hallways that were familiar, where she was new and raw and didn't belong, not here, not in this place. She made it to the comforting dark of quarters, where the tears came, but it too late, there was no purifying this creature that she had become. "Monster." she whispered into the darkness of the room. _Monster_, a voice from the darkness of her heart whispered in agreement.

They held a meeting without Yuffie, who had fled to her rooms as soon as they arrived.

"We'll have to let our scientists examine her, of course," Reeve was saying and Vincent returned his attention to the situation with some surprise, "and we'll see if we can't get a few leads on where Shelke is. Something happened to Yuffie and she isn't telling, but we'll make her understand that her selfishness is threatening Shelke's safety. She'll simply have to overcome her discomfort."

"I think Vincent should talk to her," Tifa chimed in, "He knows her best."

"I think he should go now, even if the brat is in hiding. Damn her hide! She should know this is important. Sometimes I think she left her on purpose. Probably her fault they got captured too. Shelke knew better than to be doin' stupid things like Yuffie does, and damn all comers who got anything to say about it. 'Bout time something happened, but it was probably Shelke they was after. Maybe that just let Yuffie go." Cid said, his anti-Yuffie rant thick enough he should have been choking on it.

"Very well." Vincent said, allowing the others to think his haste in leaving the meeting was in anxiety over Shelke. Truthfully, he was worried, but he knew the others were worried about both Shelke herself and him. But he was also worried for Yuffie, who had saved his life and been his friend longer than he had even known Shelke. His feet took him easily to Yuffie's quarters, the metal capped boots silent against the floor with the ease of long practice. He knocked gently on the door and was rewarded by a rather muffled, "Come in." He did, but had to turn on the lights himself as he walked in.

Yuffie was sprawled across her bed, gun and katana both laid on the floor. She didn't look at him, but she did greet him with a "Hiya Vince," even if it was very subdued for her.

"Yuffie, look at me." he said and she reluctantly turned her foreign silver gaze to meet his. "Tell me what is wrong."

Rather than a list of every complaint she had, or a rant, something predictable, instead she just shook her head. "Look at me Vince. I'm not even sure I recognize myself anymore. All those people out there, when I close my eyes I can see them staring at me, like I'm a monster. And the worst part is I can't decide if they're right. What if I am Vince? I can't remember what happened, but the fight, I thought I was dead Vince. I know I was. What did they do to bring me back? Who did it? I can't remember, I can't help Shelke, I can't do anything without feeling like I woke up as one of Jenova's children, mako eyed and waiting for my sanity to slip and start calling out for Mother." Tears flowed down her cheeks and her eyes glowed brighter, but she turned her head away so that her hair separated them. Swift steps brought him to her bedside, where he sat down beside her.

"Yuffie, you are not a monster." he said gently.

"I know. But I'm not Yuffie anymore either. I'm nothing Vincent. That's all I can ever be." She couldn't speak anymore for the sobs that wracked her body, but they were completely silent, like only those who can never let anyone see them cry can. In an awkward gesture of comfort he gathered her into the circle of his arms and let her cry. She didn't flinch when the cool metal of his gauntlet touched her skin, but she did move into the comforting warmth of his body. Due to the experiments of Dr. Hojo his body ran at a slightly higher temperature than most humans, because of the nature and design of his modified circulatory system. Yuffie was cold, like she had just climbed out a spring and her body heat had never returned. Corpse chill, snickered a voice in his mind that was not his own. She pillowed her head against his collarbone and the smell of her hair came to him.

Vincent frowned, something about the familiarity of it tugging on his senses. It was a few moments before he remembered that it was a smell that was similar to the one that Cloud had after being pulled from the Lifestream itself. It was a scent peculiar only to unrefined mako, which meant no scientist had a hand in Yuffie's new design, faint though the scent now was. His mind quickly sorted through the information available to him to make sense of this new data. It took only a few seconds for the pieces to come together when he remembered the feather found at the scene. Genesis would have taken Yuffie, probably to one of the places, cracks in Gaia's shell where the Lifestream still welled up. Dumping her in would have been a calculated risk. The strength and potency of unrefined mako had the ability to mutate life forms, and quickly, as evidenced by what they had seen at the northern crater.

So the Lifestream had healed Yuffie, but in doing so had changed her. He was not prepared for the relief he felt, knowing his friend had not been subjected to the cruel attentions of scientists. The others would lose their strange harshness when they were told, because their cruelty had only sprung from worry. Vincent looked down to check on Yuffie, but she had already managed to cry herself to sleep. Arranging her form comfortably on the bed, he went in search of the others to tell them what he knew.

They were still in the conference room, and looked up expectantly as he entered. "Yuffie cannot help us. Genesis must have dumped her into a mako fountain or into the Lifestream. The scientists will find she has been infected with an unrefined version of mako, which is famous for its uncontrollable, unstable nature. Hojo would have been the only one foolish enough to attempt an experiment of that sort." He left the rest of his message unspoken, knowing the others would follow his reasoning.

A brief silence followed before Reeve nodded. "Yes, it makes sense. They must have been after Shelke, maybe even with orders to attempt to capture her with as little harm done to her as possible. That would explain why it didn't appear she put up too much of a fight. Yuffie was simply in the way."

"And then Genesis would have found her. He must have been following the soldiers for some reason. Why?" Cloud asked.

Reeve shook his head. "I only wish we knew. He probably saved Yuffie in the hope that we would assume them both captured and send us looking for the people that took them. He's after them and I'm sure his reasons would explain a lot, but for now we're back to square one looking for Shelke."

"We should apologize to Yuffie. We were pretty mean to her." Tifa commented softly, and the others looked away in shame.

"Is she okay Vincent?" Cloud asked.

Vincent answered with characteristic restrain, "I could not say." He could only hope that she would become the Yuffie he had become attached to again. Someday.


	3. Dreams of a Sullen Hope

Disclaimer: No, still don't own Final Fantasy.

A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter this time, but I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Three

Dreams of A Sullen Hope

Days passed with no new clues. After the first shock had passed they fell almost reflexively into their old patterns. Reeve's scientists were in raptures over the complexity of their new specimen, but their joy was cut short when Yuffie had given them a dark glare and allowed them only to perform a surface physical like all the members of the WRO went to twice yearly. They had attempted to take a blood sample but after the acidic substance had eaten through several vials they ceased their collection attempts in that direction, but they had discovered its remarkable regenerative properties and several others that escaped their attempts to discover them. After being thwarted there, they had tried to collect a bone sample, but whatever formed Yuffie's core structure wasn't bone and it refused collection.

The scientists themselves nearly had heart attacks when they discovered that Yuffie didn't have a heart, per se. Her veins and arteries themselves pulsed, moving blood that was oxygenated through the skin as well as through the lungs, allowing it to be super efficient and supply her transformed muscles with plenty of oxygen with whatever feats she decided she needed to accomplish. One scientist raised the concern that bleeding out would be a threat, but a short experiment revealed that when cut the veins closed themselves off and then regenerated themselves in short order.

They also managed to explain the mystery of Yuffie's new hair, if it could be called that. More in the nature of antennae, it was semi-aware and its movement reacted to stimuli, although the strands themselves lacked the nerves necessary for pain sensory. When Yuffie's system was flooded with the hormones indicative of stress the scales that composed a stand of hair raised themselves into tiny razor blades, relaxing into smooth surfaces again as Yuffie relaxed. But after allowing herself to be assured that she wouldn't be brainwashed into some strange quest for alien presences, Yuffie stopped all the testing, and waited with the same nervous anticipation as the others for a new development.

The new development came more quickly than they could have hoped and was found slumped just outside the reinforced bulletproof glass doors that stood in the repaired front of the WRO. It had been one of the secretaries coming in for her shift who had noticed the huddled mass, and she was still describing the situation in painful detail and with great relish. Recognizing the hardly intimidating form, she had sprinted as quickly as her four inch heels would allow her to find Vincent, in the hope he could deal with the dark haired figure collapsed outside the door. Dealing with Nero this time was vastly different from the last time the gunman had faced him.

This time it involved finding the pathetic figure a blanket and some warm coffee that was more drinkable than the stuff to be found in the break room at the WRO. Tifa was the one brave enough to actually hand him the steaming mug, while the others hovered in a protective circle, and Yuffie hovered in the doorway itself, rather than run the risk that he was pretending, even though it was pretty obvious he wasn't. He sat morosely, his hair plastered flat and dripping from the chill rain outside. His skin was bruised in a dozen different places, his hands chapped and rough, and he was painfully thin, as if he hadn't eaten regularly since Deepground had fallen.

Finally he looked up, after long minutes, but he still didn't speak. "You know, as _enlightening _as this _fascinating_ conversation is, I have a demanding appointment with some drying paint." Yuffie spoke and everyone looked to where she had been by the door, but she wasn't there. Movement behind Nero drew their eye and they realized with a shock they found Yuffie balanced precariously on the back of one of the hard molded plastic chairs that populated the main break room, staring at Nero like a vulture waiting for a much anticipated meal.

Nero froze, but said softly, "I apologize. You are the small, irritating ninja, correct?"

Yuffie smiled slowly, a still disturbing sight, as it had always meant she was plotting something. "Only too true," she sighed, then bounded to her feet. "Would you like a sandwich or something? I can go beat up one of those silly errand boys Reeve keeps around, for reasons incomprehensible."

"It would be appreciated." Nero's soft, velvety voice was grateful, but his gaze returned to the slightly chipped blue mug.

Clad in more characteristic tank and shorts, Yuffie bounded enthusiastically for the door. After she left, no one seemed willing to break the nearly stifling silence. It persisted until Yuffie returned triumphantly, holding aloft a wrapped sub. "I beat up one of those dorks in accounting and took his lunch, hope you don't mind Reeve."

Reeve made a strangled sound deep in his throat, but he didn't protest. Yuffie strode over to where Nero was sitting and held out the sub in offering. Nero sat down his coffee on the battered end table next to his chair and made to take the sub, but he stopped as suddenly as if his hand had been slapped. "I didn't do anything to it." Yuffie said in slight exasperation. Nero still didn't move to take the sandwich, but his gaze became more focused than it had been since he had entered the building. He finally looked up, his eyes midnight dark and met the frozen mercury of Yuffie's gaze.

"You are not as I remember."

"Yeah, well, you were a lot scarier the last time I saw you too. Do you want the sandwich or not?" Yuffie returned scathingly. Nero took the sub without further comment and they waited with different degrees of patience as he ate ravenously. His eyes followed Yuffie curiously, and Yuffie returned the favor, returning to perch on a chair just off to one side.

Finally Cloud could wait no longer. "Why did you come here?" he demanded.

Nero's unfathomable gaze turned to Cloud. "Shelke came to you, did she not? A most regrettable betrayal. But, it would appear you have misplaced her as well. I thought you might appreciate knowing where she is now."

Before anyone else could react, Vincent had thrown Nero into the wall so hard cracks formed in the plaster, becoming a ragged crimson blur, and his gauntleted hand crashed into the wall just beside Nero's head. "Where?" he breathed, managing to infuse the single word with more malice than any threat he could have made. His crimson eyes darkened with otherworldly presence, and for once he made no effort to reign back.

A chill hand fell on his shoulder, pulling his attention from pinning Nero to the wall, though it did nothing to divert his burning gaze. There was no one else who was so cold. Even Nero produced a nearly normal heat pattern when he was in his solid form. "What is it Yuffie?"

"He is of no use to us dead," her tone had taken on a tilting, leering quality, and she perched her head gently on his shoulder, her lips near the shell of his ear. For a moment there seemed to be a malicious aura surrounding her, but it was dispelled as she tilted her head and gave a bright smile. "So don't be mean Vinnie!"

With as close to a disgusted sigh as he was willing to give, he released Nero, who fell in a rather boneless slump to the floor. Ducking under Vincent's arm, Yuffie poked at Nero's side rather inquisitively. Nero brushed her hand away irritably, struggling to his feet. "I see that while your appearance has changed, you have not." He muttered, more to himself than to the ninja.

However, Yuffie heard his comment and her entire body stilled for a moment. Then, without a moments warning, she flung her arms around the flustered ex-DeepGround operative's neck and buried her head in his still damp hair.


	4. Nero and the WRO

Disclaimer: If I owned Final Fantasy, any of it, I would be a far wealthier person than I am.

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. It's difficult to make a plot like this believable, but I'm doing my best. Feel free to leave constructive criticism and comments, they're all appreciated. And if you feel the desperate need to flame, I'll read those too. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far.

-Genesis Rising-

Chapter Four

-Nero and the WRO-

An aura of pure and utter shock permeated the air in the break room so thickly you could almost hear Cid choke on it. "Hot damn, what are you doing Yuffie?" he demanded. If nothing else Avalanche was adaptable, accepting Yuffie's new changes and attempting to accept her back into the fold as if her role in their group hadn't changed, but they also realized they were failing at it. They hadn't had enough time yet and the changes were too new, too strange, and too different for them to accept it quickly."

Yuffie muttered something from where she had buried her face in Nero's dark hair. Nero, for his part, was frozen as if he expected to be mauled by some sort of wild animal. Nero's words replayed themselves in Yuffie's head. _I see that even if your appearance has changed, you have not._ It was the something that had been missing, that had left a ragged hole in her chest that made it difficult to draw breath. The assurance that no matter what she had become, she was still Yuffie. Vincent had tried, but he was too broken, too cautious to tell her so as easily as the words had tumbled Nero's mouth.

His body was hard against her trembling fingers, her talons tracing shallow paths in the damp and torn leather that was all that remained of his DeepGround uniform. She murmured again, bringing her mouth closer to his ear so that only he could hear. "Thank you." The words were heartfelt, shocking Nero, who grew even more rigid in her embrace than before. Yuffie finally noticed his discomfort and took pity on him, leaping to her feet and spinning around in a characteristically Yuffie movement. Placing her fisted hands on her slim hips, she declared with a toothy grin, "Nero is my new bestest friend! Sorry Vinny, you've been replaced."

Vincent's crimson eyes blinked once slowly as Avalanche's collective jaw dropped. "Yeah, that's Yuffie all right." Barrett said gruffly.

"I am sorry, but I am not some pet that you can just adopt you know." Nero declared, but rather than being intimidating, it made him sound like a petulant child.

Tifa smiled. "It's like looking at a pair of bookends. Aren't they cute, Vincent?"

Vincent raised a single eyebrow, feeling rather perplexed at why he was being included in such a conversation when he flinched as Cid threw a casual arm across his shoulders. "It's okay Vincent. Something like that is better lost anyway. We'll get you a new one." Yuffie stuck her tongue out at Cid and the group laughed, like it hadn't laughed since the day Yuffie and Shelke had been attacked.

Quarters were found for the bedraggled Nero, placing him what he considered unpleasantly near the resident spymaster. Clothes had been scavenged for him from some of the various residents who called the WRO Headquarters home. A shower later Nero was sitting quietly on the bed in the sparse, impersonal room that he had been assigned, when the youngest member of Avalanche bounded in, her mercurial eyes fairly glowing with excitement. Before she can say anything, he told her sullenly, "No. Whatever it is, no."

Her eyes didn't dim at all. Instead she waggled a finger at him. "Nope. You have to earn your keep, ya know. You said you knew where Shelke was being held. Now, Vincent hasn't killed you yet, but it's only a matter of time if you don't tell us. And Vinny isn't a patient vampire. So we're going to Meeting Room 1 and we're going to coordinate Shelke's retrieval." She walked forward, clasping a seemingly friendly hand on one shoulder.

But through the thinner cloth of his shirt, he noticed the significant coolness of her hand and felt the faint sensation of inhuman nails tracing patterns across his skin. But he had been a Tsviet and being threatened by a foolish young ninja who had once been trapped in his darkness, no matter how much she seemed to have been changed, was something he couldn't allow.

Allowing the atoms of his body to disintegrate into the shadow cloud that had earned him his name, he attempting to simply phase through the ninja on his way to the door. However, her body didn't accept his atoms, and he was forced to make his way around her, coalescing at point where he was standing with his back turned to her, facing the unremarkable crème surface of the standard sliding door that marked the entrance to his room. "We aren't friends." He said pointedly.

Even though she knew he couldn't see her, Yuffie rolled her eyes. "But Nero-kun", she protested, throwing her arms around his shoulders as she pivoted on the balls of her feet, "I want you to be my friend." He shot her a look that was comparable to that of a cornered animal before he filtered through her hold.

He made his way angrily into the corridor, his blue-black eyes stormy. Yuffie sprinted a few steps until she caught up to him. Lacing her fingers behind her back, she leaned forward until she was clearly invading his personal space. As if asking for a great secret, she whispered, "So, how do you get your clothes to go all shadowy with you?" Nero used all the discipline that had been pounded into him in DeepGround to resist the urge to bash his head against the nearer corridor wall. So it was the Yuffie made her way into Meeting Room 1 followed by a shadowy cloud in such turmoil that it resembled a roiling group of bees, minus the hum.

Reeve cleared his throat from where he set at one end of a long meeting table. All the other members of Avalanche had already assembled. Vincent was currently occupying the darkest corner of room he could find, a difficult feat in the well-lit room with white walls. Cid had pushed his wheeled chair so far back it touched one of the walls, putting him at perfect range to prop his muddy boots on the pristine wooden surface of the table. Barrett was slouching impatiently in his seat, using his gun arm as a prop to rest his head. Tifa was seated next to Cloud, and was occupied in rereading reports that had led only to dead ends. Only Cloud was sitting still, his fingers laced behind his head, his stance casual.

Reeve's eyebrow rose as he took in Nero's state, especially as the dark man's form appeared rather rumpled as he pulled his atom cloud back together. "She. Is. A. Menace." Nero hissed angrily through his teeth.

"What did you do to him?" Reeve asked curiously.

"Well, his shadow thing is composed of atoms, right? I wanted to know what would happen if they were mixed up. See, usually he can just phase through things, but apparently he can't phase through me or Vinnie. So, I tried walking through him a couple times to see what it would do." Yuffie bounced eagerly on the tips of her feet and Reeve had to smother the urge to laugh at the strange picture she made, what with her new fearsome appearance and disarming habits. The dark look that Nero shot his intelligence officer through mussed bangs was simply a bonus.

But he wasn't head of the WRO for nothing and he controlled the impulse. In a level tone, he managed, "I see." Then his countenance changed into a serious one. "Nero the Sable. Former member of the elite combat group the Tsviets, which was attached to the DeepGround project. You came to us this morning claiming that you had information on the location of one of our members, who was kidnapped some time ago. Now that we've assembled, perhaps you would care to share that information with us?"

A subtle shift overcame the ruffled individual that stood before them. His posture unconsciously seemed to straighten, like he was a serpent uncoiling and preparing to strike. His feet shifted until they were about shoulder width apart, his hands dropping to his sides. Even the mussed bangs seemed to give him a sinister air as he peered through them at Reeve. "Very well." Even his tone of voice had changed, the words coming out clipped and brusque. His blue-black eyes were piercing and intelligent again, rather than covered by the vague blue fog that had seemed to cloud them while he bantered with Yuffie.

"After the fall of DeepGround, I have not been staying in a single place. As you may know, there is a vast drainage system that exists under Midgar and extends into Edge. You may not know, however, that there also exists several bunkers and hidden labs beneath the surface. DeepGround was simply one of these. Most were created by Shinra. However, there were also independent researchers and minor companies who conducted their own research. It was at one of these facilities that I noticed activity at 1100 hours yesterday. It appeared they were moving testing equipment back in."

"And you decided to investigate?" Reeve prompted when Nero paused.

"Yes. Among the various paraphernalia, one thing caught my eye. There was a long, cylindrical chamber, of the type usually used to create a temporary stasis. I managed to get close enough to peer through the glass. It was then that I recognized Shelke. Knowing you might be interested, I came here." Nero finished.

Vincent's crimson eyes were searching, as if he were examining a fine vase for faults. "And why would you do that?"

Nero's laugh was bitter. "You won. There was nothing else I could do. It is part of my conditioning that I obey the victor." A sardonic smile crossed his pale lips. "Of course, this is a situation Shinra never imagined when they began that conditioning."

There hung a tense silence in the air as the members of Avalanche processed the information that Nero had provided. "So," the voice sounded so near Nero's ear that he flinched instinctively. The wide silver eyes of the ninja who had drawn near him blinking in bemused consternation. Once upon a time, he would have heard her approach a mile away. "Does your conditioning include doing anything the winners say?" There was a wide, wicked grin on her face that managed to look faintly ridiculous, despite the overemphasized canine teeth.

"No." Nero answered blankly, drawing as far from her as he could without actually moving.

"Yuffie, behave." With Reeve's admonishment, the young shinobi withdrew looking like a spoiled child who had just had their favorite toy taken away. The commissioner of the WRO sighed, lacing his fingers together and staring blankly at the reports assembled in front of him. From the corner of his he surveyed the others who had assembled in the hope of retrieving their friend.

Vincent was as he usually was, stoic and in control, his pale face a perfectly sculpted mask of diligent watchfulness. Yuffie was doodling on the papers in front of her, leaning on one hand, elbow propped on the table. But there was awareness in her mercurial eyes that let him know she was every bit as aware of the dangerous situation as Vincent was, if not more. As his chief intelligence officer, she might know more about the dangerous underworld that existed beneath the city.

Tifa was looking worried, but there was faint relief in her eyes, knowing that Shelke was still alive if they had bothered to put her into stasis. Cloud had pulled a mask of mercenary blankness of his features, and was employing his time in watching Reeve and waiting for orders to be issued.

Barrett had risen from the table and was digging through the cabinets on the left side of the room for the maps that were stored in each of the meeting rooms. Apparently whomever had them out last had left them in disarray, for he was cursing lightly under his breath as he pulled out an overhead street map that included both Midgar and Edge and found the incomplete surveys that existed of the underground. Cid had sullenly placed his feet on the floor and wiped the dust that had fallen from his boots off the desk, leaving faint brown streaks across the papers that had been laid in front of him.

Barrett unrolled the large maps, placing holders at all the corners. "All right, shadow boy, get your butt over here." His command was gruff and Nero moved unwillingly closer to the table from where he had been standing stiffly by the door. "Now, where'd you see them taking Shelke?"

There was a tense, anticipatory silence as Nero traced his fingers gently over the map's surface. Vincent leaned forward slightly, heightening his resemblance to a bird of prey with his piercing, hungry gaze. Yuffie's doodles took on a different shape, as her slightly crooked bunnies morphing into disturbing well drawn creatures that looked to have crawled out of the deepest pits of hell. Despite Reeve's 'No Smoking' rule, Cid lit up a cigarette, using his WRO insignia coffee mug to catch the ashes. Tifa was hovering without leaving her seat and only Reeve caught sight of Cloud laying a quick, comforting hand over Tifa's.

At last Nero's hand stilled. "Here." He said confidently. "This is where I emerged into the city. From there I should be able to lead you to her."

"Can't you just show us?" Cid inquired.

Nero flicked his eyes over to the incomplete survey that was the best the WRO owned of the underground. Mapping out the dangerous tunnels and waterways that flowed below their cities had been pushed back on the priority list, given all there was to do and the lack of willing personnel. In fact, most of the map had been made by Yuffie, with only a bare bones team of cartographers and other assistance personnel going with her. Nero smooth voice sounded again. "I am afraid that you don't have a map that corresponds to this area."

It was true. The area where he had pointed was close to the old industrial district, an area where most of the buildings were condemned anyway. At the time when the maps were made, Reeve had been most concerned about streets falling in or other civilian concerns. There had been no need at the time to send a team in there.

"So, who are you going to send?" Cloud asked, his blond spikes shifting as he moved to better examine the map himself.

Reeve looked to be deep in thought. "I can't risk sending anyone in blind. We'll send in intelligence first, then make plans from there."

"Yes!" Yuffie cheered, scattering her papers and her grotesque gargoyles across the floor of the room.

Nero looked like he could be ill. "The only reason they'd put you in intelligence is for the irony." He muttered. Yuffie heard him clearly, sending him a dirty look.

Reeve chuckled. "Even if that was the case, Yuffie is our head officer. She'll be accompanying you."

"Just Yuffie?" Vincent asked darkly. "Are you certain that is a wise idea?"

"Hey, Vince, I saved your butt remember." She pointed a finger in his direction, as if she could run him through with it. "And don't forget, I am the Great Ninja Extraordinaire, Yuffie Kisigari!" She spun around on her heel to emphasize her point, finger still pointing directly at Vincent as she stilled again. While she maintained her cheerful façade, there was a part of her that was hurt by Vincent's lack of confidence. The logical part of her knew he was worried about Shelke, and perhaps about her safety as well, but she had never found listening to that cool, logical voice easy. It had sounded irritatingly like too many of the Masters she had studied under while growing up in Wutai.

"Yeah, we can't just send the brat in with him. He could be a traitor." Cid said, smashing his coffee cup down on the table for emphasis. A spiderweb crack ran up the white surface, but the ashy liquid inside simply sloshed around a bit and Reeve breathed a sigh of relief. The cleaning staff would have a fit if any of that tarry liquid found its way onto the teal industrial carpet that lined the floor. Idly Reeve wondered whose idea it had been to carpet this room in the first place. It couldn't have been him, could it?

Turning his attention away from the state of his floors he said, in the voice he reserved for making important decisions and controlling Yuffie, "I have full confidence in Yuffie's skills. The more people we send in, the greater the chance is that they will be caught. If they are, we have no way of predicting our enemy's response and there is no guarantee we will be able to find them again if they decide to move their base. With Nero's ability to shift his form and Yuffie's stealth abilities, they should have no troubles."

Yuffie smirked in Cid's direction and mouthed, "Score one for ninja sneakiness!"

Reeve resisted the urge to roll his eyes and questioned again how this woman had ended up in such an important position within his organization. "However, I will allow one of our elite troops to accompany her to provide support."

"No." Vincent's voice was equally as hard as Reeve's had been, and his physical presence simply added more weight to it, until it was as if he had dropped a building on the conversation. "I will be the one to accompany Yuffie and Nero. With both Nero's and my support, after Yuffie infiltrates we can retrieve Shelke immediately. During that time, Yuffie can gather information on our enemy, so there will be no need for a second trip." There was a brief staring contest between the commissioner and the dark gunner, which the rest of the group watched with interest.

Reeve was the first to look away, returning his gaze to the papers before him. It was unusual for Vincent to be so vehement. He wondered what exactly it was about the blue eyed child-woman that inspired the man to such emotion. Reeve himself was fond of Shelke and he knew all the others shared his opinion, except perhaps Yuffie, who didn't get along well with the girl.

Vincent was indeed worried about Shelke's safety, but his analytical mind didn't allow that to be his only concern. He also worried about this new, unknown threat that had been powerful enough to take Shelke away and kill Yuffie. He hadn't mentioned the latter to the rest, but his own experiences had taught him the cost of such a dramatic physical transformation. Yuffie's demons had simply manifested on the outside.

There was also a nagging worry about Yuffie's safety, despite all the demonstrations he had received in their acquaintanceship of her competency, no matter what a silly klutz she acted in front of people. If nothing else Yuffie was an actor, with the whole world as her audience. Even Vincent himself had only seen through cracks in the mask, which tended to repair itself quickly and presented that same cheerful face at every turn.

Not to be dismissed either were his questions about Nero's motivations. There seemed to be no gain in this exchange for the dark haired man, and that made him cautious. So he would use his influence to make sure he accompanied Yuffie on her mission, despite the pang that it caused him to see that she thought he doubted her skills.

While the rest of Avalanche was caught up in asking themselves why Nero was doing this, Nero himself was asking the same thing. The only reason he could find was that these were the only familiar people in a world that was so open and strange after living so long in the darkness. To one such as him, a familiar enemy was more welcome than the strangers who populated this open world. They were different and strange from those who had made DeepGround their home. So when he had crawled to the surface after that fortuitous chance at finding purpose once again, he had made his way to the distinctive building that housed the hope for the world.

Yuffie's attention span hadn't improved with her transformation. She had often told her frustrated masters that she went through life like she did so all her patience could be saved for the battlefield. She wasn't sure they had believed her. While watching everyone be deeply contemplative was amusing for .05 seconds, she was getting eager, especially with the lure of a new mission.

While the others might have found her quick adaption and relative composure about her transformation strange, to Yuffie once she realized there was no way to change what had been done she simply decided to enjoy it. A psychologist might have said that this was because all her life Yuffie had dealt with life shattering events, ones that shifted and shaped the very world she lived on. Change, even unpleasant change, was nothing new to Yuffie. So after breaking down on Vincent and glomping Nero for recognizing it was still her in this shell, she felt that she was quite prepared to live out the rest of her life in this new form.

So, leaping out of her chair and clearing the table, she caught Nero by the back of his collar and pulled him toward the door. Ignoring the choking and spluttering noises originating from her captive, she called back, "I'll tell you what we find! We'll send you a postcard!" as she ducked out the door and slid it smoothly shut as the collective voice of Avalanche was raised in protest.

"Right." She said, clapping her hands together and releasing Nero, who coughed violently. "Next step. Gear. Equipment rooms are this way. We can see if we can find you something, 'cause those desk jockey clothes won't do anything once we get below street level." She took off briskly and Nero had no choice but to follow, like some cowed puppy.

Yuffie led the way to a door that had a numerical lock and hand scanner to one side. Within moments, Yuffie had typed in a string of codes without even looking at the keypad and was tapping her boots impatiently as the laser scanner compared her prints to the ones that were located in the WRO central database. As they entered the room Nero turned his head this way and that, curiously scanning the racks upon racks of generic WRO uniforms. There were different styles, colors, and cuts for the different units, though they used a system that Nero was unfamiliar with. Instead of stopping here however, his guide lead him straight through into a smaller room.

Here there existed more diversity, and there were several people who seemed to be working in the brightly lit stations. "'Kay, this is the research and development room. This is where we can get you an outfit like the one you had. We don't make the usual WRO units were them, 'cause it would be a waste, but the elite combat units are personally equipped here." As Yuffie was speaking, one of the technicians, a mousy looking woman with glasses in an oversized lab coat made her way over to them.

After shaking his hand aggressively, the woman pushed her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose. "As you requested, Ms. Kisagari, certain changes and upgrades have been made to the gear you brought to us. I also received your memo about the need to equip this man here. We've prepared a selection for him to try on and we can do minor alterations here in the lab." She turned away.

"Ms. Kisagari, you'll find that Anita is prepared to retrieve your gear." Hearing this, a red-headed technician scrambled toward one of the vaults built into the walls. "Mr…Sable, is it? No matter, the changing rooms are this way. One of our male technicians will assist you." Nero allowed himself to be led away into the clean, well lit area that comprised the changing rooms. When he saw the assembled pile, he hoped that Vincent Valentine was prepared to wait a while.


End file.
